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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172430">a devil's foray into masochism</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/daveck/pseuds/daveck'>daveck</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:46:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172430</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/daveck/pseuds/daveck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's worth picking through the muck that is Cain's mind for a glimpse of his Detective. It's the only drug available to him in Hell and he’s an addict diving head first into a relapse. [Season 5A Spoilers - missing scene between 5.01 &amp; 5.02. Canon compliant.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a devil's foray into masochism</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was really hoping someone more talented than me would run with this idea, but I’ve yet to see it out there. </p><p>(Having said that, I am considering a prequel, of sorts, if anyone is interested.)</p><p>As usual, un-BR, so all mistakes are my own.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The metal is cool beneath his palm as the mechanism snicks into place. It’s one of the only rooms in Hell behind a locked door - and the only lock Lucifer had personally seen to it that it be installed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he’s being a perfectly honest Devil, it’s to keep himself out almost as much as it is to keep the damned soul within. After all, after the first hundred or so years, he’d promised to stop torturing himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He - He needs this now, though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that damned fool, Mr. Said Out Bitch, and his own damned fool murder mystery sleuthing. The thought of Chloe up there, alone in a shootout - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he’d left to protect </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And he has absolute faith his Detective won’t waste the gift he’s given her by doing something as terrestrial as dying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has faith in her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that doesn’t mean he isn’t weak. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t need this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is the only drug available to him in Hell and he’s an addict diving head first into a relapse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon snaps to attention at the sight of him, dropping his tools and straightening his spine before he catches himself and genuflects. “Lord Morningstar,” he crows. “Your presence is most welcome.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucifer sniffs. He never was much of a fan of Artemis. “Stand up,” he tells the cowering demon. When the beast is upright once more Lucifer indicates the doorway. “Leave us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, my Lord,” Artemis says. The demon hesitates for a split second before he decides to ignore his tools, still spread out on the floor, and departs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucifer waits until the door is firmly closed before he turns to face the lone occupant that remains.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Lucifer watches the wounds on the man’s flesh begin to knit together, healing before his very eyes. His smile, wide and all teeth, is tinged with blood that he coughs and spits at the Devil’s feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Lucifer.” There’s a manic tint in the other man’s eyes as he begins to laugh. “Back for some more punishment?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thousands upon thousands of years of </span>
  <em>
    <span>special attention</span>
  </em>
  <span> have taken their toll on the soul. There’s barely anything left of him to torture. Still, he is chained, strung up by both arms and legs, the demons tasked with undertaking his care are under strict instructions that the man never be released.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Devil doesn’t answer as he roughly reasserts the gag hanging around his neck back over the man’s mouth. Only his years of practice ensure he’s adept enough to avoid the mad man’s snapping attempts to bite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucifer waves his hand and the man’s screams are muffled as Hell starts to realign itself, the walls shimmering, slowly transitioning as the loop starts to reassert. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Cain,” Lucifer says, as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic</span>
  </em>
  <span> begins to overwhelm the soul and the first murder’s eyes start to glaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s fast forward a bit, shall we?” Lucifer says, as he catches sight of a bent Eve, crying over her younger son’s broken body. “Skip all the boring bits this time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cain, still bound and gagged, had grown still at the sight of his mother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still some humanity left in him after all, it seems. Lucifer doesn’t give him the chance to dwell, swiping a finger across the scene like he’s flicking through a photo album on his phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sequence rockets forward, eons of human history passing in the blink of an eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cain’s chin drops to meet his chest, overwhelmed as the Devil flicks through his brain like an old fashioned rolodex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The scenes, when they have time to settle, are fuzzy around the edges. The loop has to fill in the people as well as the places, but Lucifer can’t chance having demons around to plug the holes and take the load off the system. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re getting close to where they need to be, Lucifer knows, the clothes changing through the centuries until he’s narrowed it down to within a few decades. He slows then, careful not to overshoot his mark. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are - there are parts of the man’s memories that Lucifer is still careful to avoid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>This is akin to tearing into Cain’s head, true, but he </span><em><span>is</span></em><span> in Hell and </span><em><span>he</span></em> <em><span>does</span></em><span> deserve torture. But Lucifer’s not willing to invade </span><em><span>her </span></em><span>privacy. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s too - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yes. There she is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Letting go of his control on the man’s memories, the scene resolves suddenly and Lucifer’s ashamed to admit he knows it far too well for someone who wasn’t present when it had actually happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re in that little gap of time when he’d been dumped, feathered and furious, in the desert and the Detective was alone in L.A. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re stood in Pierce’s office, watching the bullpen through the large windows. One of the uniformed officers enters and, oblivious to the chained man in the corner, the officer speaks into the space where Cain should be standing, before dropping a package of folders on the desk and retreating back out the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucifer pays the interruption no mind, focused as he is on drinking in all the little details of the scene playing out in front of him. Realising his nose is almost pressed to the glass he takes a small step back. He doesn’t need to appear as wrecked as he feels not when he can’t be sure there aren’t still eyes on him, despite his best efforts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a frown, barely there, painted in wrinkles across the Detective’s forehead. Her head swivels each time the elevator at the top of the stairs pings with an arrival. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking for him, despite her claim that she barely noticed he was missing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Chloe.” Lucifer knows if he were to walk out into the bullpen the scene would dissolve in a whisper of smoke, the loop not fortified enough to survive the interruption, but the sight alone is enough to settle the snakes in the pit of his stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He learnt the hard way the limits of what he could and could not do in the depths of Cain’s mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The scene changes as the loop progresses onwards and, despite the Devil’s desire to freeze time, Lucifer allows it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re in a warehouse, he thinks, Cain speaking to the hapless fool he convinced to cut his own eyes out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His second in command, was it not? His dearest of confidants. There are buttons Lucifer could press, now. Threads of pain on which he could tug, but he’s not here to toture the world’s first murderer. This trip is for himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No need to rehash your pointless scheming, hmm?” Skipping forward again, he ignores the groaning of the man behind him until he catches sight of her once more and - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re together this time. There’s a lot of them together, at first, in Cain’s memories. Far less so as they progress, of course, as the wedge Cain drove between them grew. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But oh, don’t they look good together? A proper team, the Detective and her Devil. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The temptation to let someone in - a trusted one of his minions, perhaps? - in order to strengthen the loop rears its head. It’s always there, a low humming </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the background, but it’s easy enough to resist. He doesn’t need to hand one of his demons that much power over him, not when he hasn’t forgotten the hint of her scent as she brushed past him. Nor has he forgotten the silk of her skin beneath his palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he’ll never forget the salt of her kiss against his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows he doesn’t need to be here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t need to rape another man’s memories for visions of the woman who still holds his heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to, but sometimes, when the ash feels like it’s settled deep into his bones... </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cain’s muffled words are beginning to sound more coherent. When Lucifer looks over, he notes that the other man’s eyes appear more lucid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hell is working it’s dark magic, flicking the celestial reset switch - the best way to torture someone, of course, is if they still have proverbial skin to cut in to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Against his better judgement, the Devil lowers the man’s gag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has something happened to her?” There’s too much understanding in Cain’s eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucifer turns away, his eyes returning to trace the curve of Chloe’s exasperated smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Answer me!” Cain raises his voice, struggling against his bonds. “Has something happened to Chloe?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Lucifer remembers with a sudden start - the cursed man had fancied himself in love with her too, hadn’t he? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Lucifer says. Not a lie, even. Nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> happened - it’s still happening. The way time moves between the planes, it’ll still be happening for hours, even. Days, perhaps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> happening and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>still has time to change his mind</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing has happened to the Detective.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he won’t. He can’t afford to change his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then get the fuck out of my mind,” Cain hisses, venom in his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucifer lets his expression settle into a half-hearted smirk. “And why ever should I do that?” he asks as he re-fits the gag over Cain’s mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a dance they’ve done many a time, and Lucifer knows all the moves, but he’s not in the mood to perform his part. Instead, he takes one last look at his Detective as she points something out on their murder board and he turns to leave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The loop ends with the snap of his fingers as he nears the door, plunging the room back into a state of semi-darkness. “See you never,” he calls out as he yanks the door open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Artemis, leaning on the door in the hallway, tumbles in backwards. Any other time and Lucifer might be amused. “Well,” Lucifer says with a clap as his demon scrambles to regain his footing. “Back to it then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His little masochist foray into the past over, the Devil steps back into a world where she is not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Faith is funny, he thinks. A definitive creature of the light, and he’s only ever found it in the darkest of places.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
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